


Fight

by RedandLizzie



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Red/Lizzie, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedandLizzie/pseuds/RedandLizzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a couple of days after S1E15, The Judge.  Liz gets hurt, but she's strong.  Stronger than she knows.  This also falls under the tumblr prompt where Red/Liz is hurt and the other cares for him/her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned - this is different, dark. As always, feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Blacklist or any of these wonderful characters (with the exception of Margareat). The brilliant Jon Bokenkamp and NBC do. This is a transformative work and no money is being made from this story.

Elizabeth Keen sat on warm crumbling cement steps with her head leaning against a brick and stucco wall. She tightly gripped the weapon in her right hand and blinked several times in attempt to clear her vision and mind. She had no idea where she was or how long she had been there. It was dark and everything was still; there was no sound and no wind.

When she turned her head, she felt something warm and wet sliding down her neck and upper back. She touched her skin and recognized the tackiness. When she brought her fingers in front of her face she confirmed her assumption - blood. She then identified the throbbing of her head and an intense pain at the base of her skull. She lightly prodded at the area just below her hairline and took a sharp ragged breath as she realized how deep the wound was - her skin gaping open.

She turned her head, seeing nothing but old brick and mortar buildings. There were no cars and no lights except for street lamps which looked to be in the far distance. She turned her body and looked behind her into an open doorway. A flashlight lay on the floor just inside and she moved to stand; unsteady on her feet, she placed a hand against the wall to set her bearing.

After a moment she realized her shirt was torn open and that most of the buttons were missing from her blouse. Her light blue bra was intact but much of the right cup was soiled with blood. She followed the red smears up her chest trying to determine the origin before realizing her neck had been the source. She then touched her stomach where she felt a sting; there was an inch long fairly deep cut just below her navel. She watched the blood trail down for a few seconds before noticing the double buttons of her pants were also missing; the flap hanging to the side at her hip, her slacks only secured by the short zipper.

She checked her back pockets searching for her cell only to come up empty handed. She stood still, not knowing what to do; she was afraid to go inside but positive she wouldn't be able to make it far on foot. She searched the area again for a vehicle, her eyesight straining against the dark. Finding no shine of metal or glass, she moved into the building picking up the flashlight. When she swept the light across the room, she discovered a large wood table at one end and a body on the ground. She swallowed the bile rising in throat knowing instantly it was Tom.

Liz coughed and sputtered then dropped to her knees as a wave of nausea assaulted her. After long seconds of dry heaving, she forced herself to stand and walked toward her husband. He was dead, shot at least twice in the torso; in his right hand, was a large knife smeared with blood, thick and drying. Her eyes then fell to the empty holster on his belt and she looked at the gun she was holding.

She wobbled again and reached out to steady herself against the table before placing the flashlight in the middle of the splintered surface. She saw the white rope wrapped around the table's base and had a flash of memory of being tied - Tom was standing over her smiling. She then held a wrist in front of the flashlight, seeing bruises and abrasions.

Liz's eyes followed the light to the wall and she spotted a small black canvas case. As she stepped, beginning the short walk to the bag, she heard the crunch of glass under her feet and stumbled over a broken lantern.

It took her awhile, as if she were moving in slow motion, but she sat when she reached the bag and leaned against the pitted brick. She searched the contents finding bottled water, another 9 mm, a box of ammunition, a video camera, what had to be several thousand dollars, and two cell phones. The battery was dead in the first phone, but the second was fully charged. Without thought, she struggled to stand and dialed.

Dembe's quiet greeting startled her and for a moment she couldn't speak.

After a few seconds Dembe spoke again, "Hello?"

"I need to speak with him."

"It is not a good time, Agent Keen."

Her voice grew more quiet even though she tried to sound forceful. "I need to speak with him."

"One moment."

She heard movement, a door opening and closing, Red's chuckle, a woman's laugh immediately following. "It's Ms. Keen."

"Lizzie, I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed you didn't return my call earlier today. Still upset after our little chat with Cooper yesterday morning? I'm afraid I'm a bit occupied at the moment - conducting some business with a Greek merchant and his lady friend. They have some lovely antiquities available. If you're interested in jewelry, there's a pair of sapphire earrings that would look quite becoming on you." Red paused for a moment and she heard him swallow what she assumed was a drink of scotch. "Why don't you call me back in the morning and we'll catch up then?"

She stared at Tom and her hand holding the phone began to shake; her voice lowering to a whisper. "Wait."

There was silence and she heard more laughter - the same woman, a man now too.

"Lizzie, you need to speak up. I can barely hear you."

She tried again, putting all her energy into her voice. "Red. Please."

Liz heard movement, the voices on Red's end becoming softer, a door shutting then Red's shout, "Dembe, now." The urgency in his tone surprised her. Red was always calm. "What's happened?"

She felt another wave of nausea and her vision began to go dark. She placed her hand against the wall then leaned her forehead against the rough surface. "I'm not sure. I think... I hit my head... but that was yesterday."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know... where I am." Liz closed her eyes tightly in attempt to focus and said to herself, "Help him help you."

Red's voice steadied. "Take a breath. Tell me what you see, what you hear."

She pushed back against the pounding in her ears and spoke. "There aren't any lights. I only have a flashlight. No people or cars. I can't hear any sounds; not when I was outside and not now. There are some street lights but they're far away. I'm pretty sure I hit my head."

When Red spoke she immediately knew he was addressing Dembe. "She's in shock. Call Botriz - we need a locale on the cell she's using."

Liz heard Dembe's soft reply but couldn't make out the words.

Red spoke with measure. "I don't care what it takes, make it happen. Pull all resources, but do not contact the FBI."

He then said directly into the phone, "Lizzie, I'm going to find you. It's very important that you don't end this call."

Liz nodded and felt the pull of her flesh at the back of her neck. "I understand."

"Describe the building."

She cleared her throat, trying to suppress the burn she felt at the base of her tongue. "Old and brick. A warehouse. One floor. Empty and open." She felt her eyes growing heavy and her head bobbed to the side. "Maybe Aram can help." She dropped the gun and the sound of the impact on the concrete echoed.

"Lizzie?"

She began to sit down, using her hand to steady her descent to the floor. Liz felt a sting as her hand made contact with the hard cool floor, the dirt pressing into her palm. After sitting and leaning against the wall, she raised her hand and noticed a single shallow cut along the length of her scar.

"Talk to me, now."

She laid down on her side as she spoke, "I don't think I'm going to be able to stay awake. I'm trying but..."

Red's voice became louder. "Where are you hurt?"

Liz had another memory flash - Tom holding Hudson. Her voice broke when she spoke, "He killed our dog. That was yesterday. I don't understand why. I'm not... I..."

Red's voice was level, authoritative, louder. "Tell me now, where are you hurt?"

She thought hard and remembered running down the stairs with Tom on her heels. He had jerked her back by her hair and she had hit him in his temple with her fist. When he went down, he pulled her along with him. She had kicked and fought her way across the living room and into the kitchen before he knocked her down to all fours. When she had looked up, he had been standing above her. She remembered shoving the palm of her hand into his knee cap before something came crashing down over her head. "Yesterday, he hit my head with something. Tonight - not too long ago... I'm not sure... maybe it was earlier... he... the back of my neck. I don't think anything vital was cut... there's just a lot of blood. I'm going to need a transfusion."

"Put pressure on the wound."

Liz placed her hand on the laceration and winced, removing her hand when the steady flow seeped through her fingers. She knew the attempt was futile and wondered if her death was imminent. A clarity came with the thought of dying and Liz felt a need to explain. "I didn't want to believe your warnings about Tom. But then, I did start to believe you... but mostly..."

Her breath hitched as a heaviness settled in her chest. "After Gina confessed, I thought... I think I knew it was true but I was so afraid... I'm sorry. This is my fault. I don't understand what's happening, but I know you were only trying... I want you to know that... in case I... Red... you make me feel so much... but I think you already know that."

She heard Dembe's voice, the chime of a car, doors closing and then an engine starting.

The edge to Red's voice made her listen closely to his words. "Have you put pressure on the wound?"

Liz touched her neck again before dropping her hand. "I tried. There's no use."

"Lizzie, I am going to find you. We're closing in on the cell tower right now - it's a matter of minutes. You're just somewhere across the river. I want you to talk. Don't stop talking."

She took in a deep breath not knowing what to say then thought back to the last thing she remembered with certainty. "After we spoke with Cooper, he sent me home. He was right to do that, I was insubordinate... I heard Tom on the phone. He didn't know I was there. Something was wrong... He was very angry. He talked about money... about someone named Lucy... he mentioned Gina."

Liz closed her eyes before squeezing them tightly shut, she saw Tom standing in their bedroom. He was Tom but he wasn't her husband. She forced her eyes back open and continued. "He said he was going to torture me before delivering me to the section... he wasn't going to follow orders this time. Not after two years of no contact."

Her eyes caught something small moving across the dark floor in the far corner of the room and she noticed the knife in Tom's hand again. The memory of him cutting along her scarred palm and wrist while she screamed flickered, then she recalled the blinking red light of the video camera as he walked around the table saying Red's name. "He said your name... said he was making the video for you... compliments of Tom Keen... that he was chosen for a reason."

Liz's throat went dry and she felt the tears forming in her eyes. She heard Red's voice, he was talking in a rush and she couldn't make out the words. She then heard tires screeching before Dembe's quiet voice rattled off several words in the background. Red sounded loud when he returned his attention to her. "We've got your location. Mr. Kaplan and the team are closer and will arrive before I do. Are you able to make your way outside?"

She lifted her head briefly, quickly realizing she wasn't going anywhere. "No."

"There are several buildings, it may be difficult to find you. Do you have your firearm? They can follow the sound."

She reached for the bag and pulled it closer, doubting she would be able to reach the other gun a few feet away. She found the 9 mm and checked the clip before answering, "I have a Ruger. It's loaded."

"Good. Fire a round when I tell you. It won't be long."

Liz's shoulder ached and she rolled to her back. She focused on the dust particles floating in the beam of the flashlight before closing her eyes and saying a prayer.

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He sounded so gentle and she wanted to listen to that magical voice; to get lost in one of his stories of a faraway place, an exquisite meal, the perfect wine.

Liz adjusted the weight at her hips and moaned softly. "I'm just waiting."

"Say something."

Liz saw Tom again, holding Hudson's snout as the dog whimpered helplessly. "He killed my dog." She squeezed her eyelids together and felt the slide of tears. "I killed him, Red. He was already down and I shot him again. I didn't have to. I wanted to." She waited, listening for his response, wondering what he thought of her; hoping God would forgive her actions with this confession.

A moment later Red spoke and she knew he was giving her an order. "You did what you had to do in order to survive and that's what you will tell them, Lizzie. Your memory is sketchy and will forever remain that way. Despite that, you're certain he was going to kill you."

She considered his direction and knew that's exactly what she would say, she felt no remorse whatsoever. This lie made her remember another, the only one Red had ever told her and she asked, "How did you know about Omaha?"

"I didn't."

Liz scoffed silently. "You lied that night at the embassy and you're lying now."

"And you told me you invented the story."

Liz slackened her grip on the phone finally understanding that Red had given her a pass that evening so she wouldn't have the burden of admitting the truth. She didn't want any lies between them though. Not ever again. "I wanted to tell you the truth."

He was quiet for a moment. "Sam told me the story. Sam told me many stories over the years."

She felt more tears form, they were coming in a stream now. "You knew my dad?"

"Sam and I were old friends. He was one of the best men I've ever known."

Liz took a deep breath. "How long have you known me?"

There was a long pause before Red spoke. "Since you were four."

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "What does that mean?"

"Our paths crossed long ago, Lizzie. There are many things I cannot tell you; truths you have to discover on your own. But I will always be there for you. Never doubt that."

Liz heard a vehicle engine and doors shutting. "Mr. Kaplan is here."

When Red spoke, his worry was evident. "No, not yet. It's someone else."

Liz felt the full force of fear and considered her options, recognizing she had none she said, "Even if I could move, there's nowhere for me to go."

Red's voice became distant and she listened to him bark at Dembe; knowing he was reverting to his military training. She had never heard that tone before and found it equally comforting and frightening. His voice immediately softened when he spoke to her. "Kaplan and the team are two minutes out. I will be there in five."

Liz sat the weapon aside and wiped her hand on her pants before picking it up again. "Who is it?"

"I don't know."

"Will they kill me or take me?"

The pitch of Red's voice rose. "Stall them. When they get inside, do not end this call but set the phone down where it can't be seen. When they get close, place the gun to your temple. Do not turn the weapon on them, keep it on yourself. They want you alive. One minute and forty five seconds."

She saw two light beams bouncing off the walls and heard voices then footfalls. She spotted them the second they stepped through the doorway. "They're inside. There's three of them. Two men, one woman. Civilian clothing - two in light colors, one in dark. I don't know if they're armed. I have to go."

"Lizzie, wait - "

She cut him off quickly and said, "It's okay. Worst case, I get to be with Sam again." After pressing end, she moved the phone between her body and the wall. If she was going to die, there was no reason for Red to be a witness.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Kaplan and Red's team of mercenaries arrive then Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback on Chapter 1 - those comments are greatly appreciated.

Liz watched as the trio moved further into the building, aiming their flashlights toward the table before lowering the beams to Tom's body. When the woman screamed Tom's name and dropped a light, resulting in a clank and pop; Liz startled, bumping the back of her head against the floor.

For a long moment the woman stood still, then ran across the length of the room to crouch before Tom. Liz recognized the blonde as Gina when she broke into sobs, clutching at Tom's clothing and moving her hands over his frame.

The beam of the remaining flashlight then landed on Liz's face, essentially blinding her, and she placed the gun she held against her temple. A few seconds later the light was lowered to her torso and she focused on the two men as they glanced back and forth between Gina and herself. Liz attempted to listen to their conversation, but Gina's cries drowned out their words. She noticed one of the men holding a revolver and when they began to approach, she spoke as loudly as she could. "Either kill me or I'm going to kill myself. You will not take me."

A flash of movement caught in Liz's peripheral vision and she turned her head to see Gina barreling toward her. She watched as the unarmed man moved with effortless speed and jerked Gina back by her arms, turning her to face the opposite direction. The two struggled, shouting at each other until the man moved behind Gina, folding her arms behind her and shaking her hard. Liz's only thought was of the perfect distraction Gina was creating for Red's team.

After Gina grew quiet, the armed man placed the revolver on the ground. As he put his palms up in front of him and began to walk toward Liz, she opened her mouth and put the barrel of her gun inside which caused him to halt abruptly.

When the man spoke, she noticed the southern drawl of his accent. He sounded aged, tired. "We mean you no harm. Your husband went against orders by bringing you here and by hurting you. We simply want to speak with you, Elizabeth."

Liz removed the gun from her mouth and placed it back at her temple. "Who are you?"

"My name is Nathan Slecker."

"Who do you work for?"

"That's what we want to speak with you about. We feel there would be a mutually advantageous relationship if we joined forces. But first things first, my main objective is to ensure your health and safety. Please allow me to take you to a doctor. I would call an ambulance but it's best if this scene is not discovered."

When Gina shouted the word gun, Nathan and the other man turned toward the door just before a short round of gunfire rang out. All three were dead on the floor before Liz had time to register the arrival of Red's men. She watched as the four mercenaries approached wearing night vision goggles and carrying semi-automatic rifles. Liz sat the Ruger down before pushing it away from her. She remembered the tall long haired bearded man at once.

As he stood above her, he removed the eyewear then pulled out a two-way radio. "Situation is secure. She is awake but needs immediate medical attention. There is a significant blood trail outside as well as inside. Its all come from her."

Liz breathed in deeply. She no longer felt the overpowering pain, hadn't for quite some time, and that worried her. She heard the men speaking but didn't pay attention to the words. A few moments later, she heard the fast clicking of heels on the concrete, and then Kaplan was moving to sit beside her. Liz's eyelids fluttered shut as the woman placed a thick soft cloth firmly against the back of her neck.

"Agent, you need to open your eyes. Raymond is less than three minutes away and expects you to be awake when he arrives."

Liz turned her head slightly before forcing her eyes open. Two large floodlights appeared, seemingly from nowhere, aimed in the area where she lay and Liz squeezed her eyes shut again before Kaplan snapped out, "Agent Keen, open your eyes!"

Liz complied and grunted at the glare. She looked at Kaplan and thought the woman appeared concerned, her brow knit tightly. Liz didn't speak, the effort of staying conscious taking everything she had. She blinked several times as her vision adjusted to the bright lights and watched the movement of the men over Kaplan's shoulder.

The next time Kaplan spoke her voice sounded distant though she was still next to Liz. "Roger, come put pressure on her neck. I need to start the transfusion. She needs blood right now."

The bearded man returned and squatted at her head. He took hold of Liz's neck before applying firm pressure. She grimaced at the jostle, the pain returning for a few seconds before fading. Kaplan then went to work, putting on gloves and opening packages. Seconds later, Liz felt the puncture of a needle and the pressure of tape being wrapped around her arm. She wondered how Kaplan had a blood bag and would have asked if she thought the question truly worth the effort.

"You're going to be okay, Agent. There's significant blood loss but you will be fine. Do you have other injuries?"

Liz thought hard, knowing she had a concussion but felt too weak to explain; she then remembered the other cuts and turned her hand over to expose her bleeding wrist, before placing the injured hand near her abdomen to indicate the cut there as well.

Kaplan adjusted her glasses then looked at Liz's hand before studying her stomach. "Okay, those are relatively minor. Do you have any cuts on your chest or is that blood from your neck?"

Liz mouthed the word no before Kaplan turned from her and shouted, "Monroe, get my duffle bag, the large dark blue one. I need more supplies."

Liz moaned loudly but was unsure why as she still didn't register much pain.

Kaplan looked back at her. "Hold on, he's coming." The older woman then squeezed her shoulder. "I'm going to get these wounds dressed and then you're going to the hospital. Your neck will need several stitches, I'm not sure how many, but a good number. I've contacted someone I trust, a very good plastic surgeon and she will take care very good care of you."

Liz muttered, "Okay."

Kaplan adjusted the gloves she wore and said, "No hair up days for awhile but the scar will fade a good deal over time."

Liz didn't here Red's approach and actually saw Dembe first. The whites of the bodyguard's eyes a sharp contrast against his dark skin as he stood at her feet looking down at her. She was surprised by what she saw in his expression - compassion.

When Kaplan moved away, Red immediately took her place, kneeling at Liz's side, his inside knee brushing against the side of her ribcage. She focused on the rolled up sleeve of his crisp white shirt and tried to make out the color of the light stripe in the material. She fought to hold her emotions in check, trying to build enough strength to look at his face; terribly afraid she would break the moment she met his eyes.

When Red spoke, she concentrated on the richness of his voice, keeping her gaze on the fold of his sleeve. "I'll take it from here. I've got her."

She felt Roger's hand move away, being replaced with another. Red's movements were slow and careful. She reached out with her bloody hand but stopped short of making contact with his bare forearm, her hand hovering mere inches away. She wanted to touch him but thought of his expensive tailored shirt, of getting blood on his skin.

His voice was quiet and strained. "It's okay, Lizzie. Touch me."

With his approval, she gripped his arm, the intense heat of his skin easing the sting in her hand that she had nearly forgotten. She sighed her tremendous relief as she looked up and searched Red's face. When she reached for his free hand with her uninjured one, he immediately slid his fingers between hers. She felt the tears forming, heavy and thick, and whispered, "Red."

She watched the subtle emotion pass over his face in waves. His jaw became tight then turned slack before becoming tight again. His mouth parted then closed. All the while, his eyes never left hers, communicating more in those seconds than he had could verbally convey; he was there now and he wasn't going to let anything else happen to her.

Long seconds later, she watched as his eyes began to travel her body. He studied the side of her neck first, as if he was trying to envision the wound he could not see, before his gaze dropped down, stopping only briefly at the blood on her bra before resting on her abdomen. She saw what she thought was the glistening of tears in his eyes just before he unclasped her hand and traced the skin around the cut on her stomach. His touch felt fire hot and she shuddered as he completed the circle with his fingers.

His tone changed to something deeper, almost raw. "Are you cold?"

Liz took a moment to consider his question, unsure what she was feeling. She whispered, "I'm thirsty."

Kaplan spoke, "She's getting fluids through the IV; she'll be going under soon. Bethany has been contacted and will be performing the surgery. She's the best in D.C., if not the entire east coast. As soon as we get that neck stabilized and this first pint in her, she'll be ready to move. We'll need a five minute lead time before medical transport arrives."

Red kept his eyes on Liz, taking hold of her hand again, his thumb stroking the patch of skin between her thumb and forefinger. The touch was soothing and she felt the tightly coiled tension leaving her body.

Liz listened to Dembe's reply, "The FBI has been contacted and is putting together a team. They've been told the situation is resolved and they will only need to evaluate the scene. An ambulance is en route to what they believe a stabbing and will arrive in approximately seventeen minutes."

Liz saw Red's eyes drop to her chest again and he turned his head toward Dembe. "Let's get her covered. Get my jacket out of the car."

Kaplan replied, "There are two blankets in the supply bag Monroe is bringing. He's coming through the door now."

Liz swallowed and felt the tears trailing along her cheeks, then sliding down her jaw. Red released her hand and brushed away the moisture. His fingers still felt hot but the gentle touch made her further relax. Unconsciousness was close and she lightly squeezed his forearm before dropping her hand and speaking softly, "I can't stay awake any longer."

Red's lips turned up briefly and he swept the bangs back from her face. "You're going to be fine, Lizzie. Everything's going to be fine. I'll be there when you wake up."

As darkness surrounded her, she whispered, "Thank you."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz has visitors at the hospital.

Liz woke to a gentle shake of her arm. When she opened her eyes, Aram was standing in front of her holding a huge bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, Liz. Sorry to wake you. Cooper and Ressler will be here in about ten minutes. When I was in the elevator just now, Mr. Reddington called and asked that I give you a heads up; let you know they were on their way."

Aram looked puzzled, his brow scrunching before he continued, "I wonder how Mr. Reddington knew I was at the hospital? Do you know if he has his security here watching you? There's an agent outside your door, but Mr. Reddington probably doesn't trust him. Or maybe Mr. Reddington has people everywhere? I think maybe he does."

As he transferred the vase from one hand to another he began speaking again. "Anyway, I know he's managed to keep them - Cooper and Ressler - away until now. He was real short with Cooper yesterday; I overheard him telling the AD to leave you the hell alone. I've never heard him swear before, Mr. Reddington, I mean. Of course, I don't think I've ever heard Cooper swear either." Aram looked down at her bandaged hand and then back to her face. "But, it's the second full day today, so I guess there's only so much even Raymond Reddington can do."

Liz pushed her uninjured hand through her hair before rubbing her eyes. It seemed the only thing she was capable of was sleep. She felt somewhat confused but nodded regardless.

"Where would you like these?"

Liz looked at the vase of white calla lilies and felt the upturn of her lips. "They're beautiful, Aram. Thank you. How about on the window sill."

Aram smiled and moved to sit the flowers down. When he returned to her bedside, he touched her shoulder briefly before speaking. "I'm sorry about all of this. It's really messed up. No one thinks badly of you, and I mean no one. You should know that. Mr. Reddington came in to the Post Office the morning after it all went down and explained everything. The evidence backs it all up too. I was part of the team that went through your house. Well, I mean I went through your computers. I checked all of them twice to be sure, and that took me a day and a half; otherwise, I would have been here sooner. I've been really worried about you, Liz."

She watched as the empathetic expression set on Aram's face before he started speaking again. "I found one encrypted file on Tom's laptop that was very incriminating. I do wonder how that single file got there though because there was nothing else and it was hidden extremely well. I suspect Mr. Reddington had something to do with it because... well, never mind, it doesn't matter. The file was authentic."

Liz then saw Aram flinch as he looked at the large bandage that wrapped around the back and sides of her neck. She suspected it was blood stained as each time she slept, the stitches pulled.

After a moment Aram continued, "Oh, and I talked to Meera and she said it was obvious you fought like hell. I guess your house is pretty much a disaster zone. And then there's the video on the camcorder from the warehouse; Cooper and Mr. Reddington are the only ones that have seen it. Cooper's marking it level five, and has kept the footage on the device at the Post Office in order to protect your privacy." Aram put his hands in his pockets before looking over his shoulder at the door. "I shouldn't be telling you this, I guess. But if our roles were switched, I would want you to tell me."

His rambling made her head hurt but his sincerity warmed her heart. When she reached out and Aram immediately removed a hand from a pocket and grasped hers, she said, "Thank you, Aram." She hadn't cried since her arrival at the hospital but now felt as though she could sob. She quickly wiped at the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. "You are my only true friend."

Aram was the first visitor she'd had during the hospital stay and no one had called. She didn't want to contact Sam's sister in Nebraska as her aunt would only fret at being too unhealthy to visit. Liz knew Red had been there during her surgery and throughout the first night. She had a ghost of a memory of him leaning over her and kissing her forehead, saying soothing words, and stroking her hair. When she hadn't heard from him since, she wasn't sure if he was distancing himself, assisting the task force with the investigation, or working on finding the people Tom reported to.

The thought of Tom reminded her of his family which made her sick to her stomach. Liz assumed the FBI was taking care of that notification, but had no idea what his parents would be told and wondered if it would be divulged that she had caused his death.

When Liz realized she had blanked out for awhile, she shook her head and looked at Aram who still stood above her. As she tried to smile, he sat on the side on the bed and put his hands on her shoulders before pulling her close and circling her with his arms; Liz was unsure, other than at Sam's funeral, it had been years since anyone other than her dad and Tom had hugged her. After his warmth began to seep into her bones, she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his waist; the tears she fought off earlier beginning to flow. She needed this hug desperately, and was more thankful for Aram's caring heart than she would have ever thought possible.

"It's okay, Liz. You're strong. Really strong. You're going to get through this."

When the door to her room opened and Cooper and Ressler walked in, followed closely by Red, she sat back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She knew there was no reason to be embarrassed but the look of pity on her co-workers' faces made her uncomfortable. Liz then glanced at Red who was making his way around the foot of the bed; his head was tilted down and she could only see his profile, but knew he had an eye trained on her.

Aram took her hand and held it for a moment before giving a gentle squeeze. She was surprised he didn't hurry away, and thought she caught a glimpse of something she could only describe as more than friendly cross his face before he stood and turned. He nodded to Cooper and Ressler then glanced in Red's direction before walking to the door. When he took hold of the handle, he turned back to her and spoke, "If you need anything, anything at all, you call me. I mean it, Liz."

She replied in a steady voice despite the emotion vibrating in her throat. "Thank you. And thanks again for the flowers, they really are lovely."

After Aram left, Liz reached for the large plastic water cup on her bedside tray and took a long sip. She then looked at Cooper and Ressler standing beside her, and caught Red moving to sit in the chair by the window with her peripheral vision. She was due to be discharged within the hour and thought the timing of the interview must have been Red's orchestration.

Liz asked, "I suppose you're here to interrogate me? Will I have to meet with OPR as well? Because I would prefer to do this just one time."

Ressler placed his hands on his hips then looked at Cooper who spoke, "Agent Keene with Reddington's assistance, the investigation is nearly complete. We do need to ask you some questions before finalizing the report. OPR was contacted, as is procedure given the circumstances, but there was significant video evidence as well as a computer file which makes a formal interview by them unnecessary. They have agreed to accept my report on the matter."

Liz looked at her lap fighting the need to stroke the scar that was covered with a bandage. She remembered seeing the camcorder in the black canvass bag and wondered what exactly Tom had recorded. Her memory of most of the time in the warehouse was missing and what she did remember was unclear. She wasn't sure if she had been unconscious most of those hours or if she was blocking the horrible events.

"I would like to see the video. After the report is finalized. I don't remember much of that time."

When Ressler immediately dropped his head and Cooper averted his eyes, she felt her stomach drop and a tightness formed in her chest.

A moment later, Cooper brought his eyes back to hers and spoke. "The two of us will discuss the video once you're back at work."

Liz gripped the blanket, pressing the rough material into her palm until she felt pain. Perhaps it was best she not watch the footage after all. She glanced at Red who was intently watching Cooper, his legs were crossed and his fedora was propped on his knee. She didn't understand why Cooper was allowing Red to stay; but was comforted by his presence, knowing he would step in if the conversation grew tense. She owed him a thank you for working diligently over the past forty-eight hours to make all this go away quickly.

Liz licked her lips then met Cooper's eyes. "Ask your questions."

Forty minutes later, Cooper and Ressler excused themselves with a professionalism that made her outwardly cringe. She was exhausted and in pain. She was overdue for medication and pressed the call button for the nurse who immediately replied. Liz then looked at Red who had been silent the entire time.

When he didn't speak, she looked past him out the window at the late afternoon sun. She wanted to leave the hospital but felt anxious at the thought of returning to the brownstone, imagining the condition things must be in and wanting to avoid the memories it held.

When the nurse appeared, she smiled at Liz. "Are you ready to go Elizabeth? I imagine the thought of sleeping in your own bed tonight has you eager."

Liz grimaced then closed her eyes and took the proffered pill as the nurse made an entry in the computer. Liz then asked, "Is my paperwork complete?"

"Yes. Your prescriptions were just brought up. I just need your signature. Why don't you go ahead and get dressed then buzz when you're ready to go." The nurse glanced at Red and smiled. "So where have you been hiding your handsome husband? Glad to see he's here to see you home."

Liz ignored the nurses assumption and said, "Give me ten minutes to change."

After the nurse left, Liz turned toward Red but focused on the vase full of flowers. "Thank you for helping with the investigation and all the other things I'm sure you've done that I'm unaware of."

Liz then looked at the small closet door for a few seconds before saying, "And for my clothing that was delivered yesterday. I hope you're not the one who packed it." She moved her eyes to his face, finally feeling confident enough to meet what she knew would be his intense gaze. "You can go, though. I'll be fine."

His eyes studied her, just as she expected and she felt exposed. He picked up his hat and uncrossed his legs before speaking. "You'll be staying with me over the next few days, Lizzie. I have a crew readying your home for sale, as I had anticipated you wouldn't want to return there; however, if you do want to stay, it's still a couple of days away from being livable." He then stood and approached the foot of the bed.

Liz was quite sure she would normally feel angry at his presumption of her wants and needs but found herself appreciative beyond measure. Red was right, she didn't want to return to her home - not tonight, not ever again. And the thought of staying alone in a hotel was not something she looked forward to. She struggled to maintain eye contact, feeling tremendous guilt for so many things when it came to the man standing in front of her. "You don't have to do this. I'm sorry you feel as though you have to take care of me. I can… go to a hotel. If you wouldn't mind giving me a ride."

"Lizzie, that's nonsense. You should know me well enough by now; I don't do anything I don't want to. Come now, let's get you out of here."

As he came around to the side of the bed, she gripped the covers tightly around her. "I can do this. I don't need help. If you'll just grab the bag out of the closet, I can take it from there."

When he pursed his lips, she was afraid she was going to have to argue further. His voice was firm when he spoke. "I'll turn away but I'm not leaving the room. You're as white as a sheet."

Liz sighed and pushed back the covers before bringing her legs over the side of the bed. She checked the hospital gown, making sure it covered her properly, while Red retrieved her bag. She then stretched her toes and saw Red looking at them before his eyes slid up her exposed legs, stopping at the large deep blue and yellow bruise on the outside of her lower thigh. She watched as his expression turned to something she could only describe as frightening.

When she caught his eye, he immediately turned away and walked to the window. His posture was stiff as he placed his hands in his pockets. At that moment she knew exactly what he was going to do; whoever had overseen Tom was about to disappear, just like Diane Fowler.

Liz readied a sweatshirt, deciding to bypass a bra, before removing the gown. She muted a groan as she pulled the shirt over her head and sat still, waiting for the pain in her neck to subside. She was relieved when the yoga pants went on much more easily. "Okay, you can turn around."

When he faced her, his face was placid, the usual mask back in place. As she put on her socks, she said, "This is no one's fault but my own. I certainly don't blame you. You saved my life. Again. The task force never would have reached me in time." She managed a small smile. "At least you didn't hang up on me in this time. I guess both of us need to stop doing that."

She watched as he moved his hands in his pockets before speaking. "Lizzie, there's something I need to tell you. I'm afraid you will be upset with me, but I want you to hear me out and try to stifle any anger you feel until I've had opportunity to explain."

She sighed having no clue what Red could be alluding to before remembering the computer file that he had more than likely had placed on Tom's laptop. She didn't give a flying flip about that though and reached into her bag, removing the slip-on tennis shoes before dropping them to the floor and sliding her feet into them.

She leaned against the bed and said, "Go ahead, Red. Let's get it over with."

"I had a DARPA chip placed in your neck."

"You what?"

"I had Dr. Bethany place a tracking device in your neck when she performed the surgery to repair the damage. It can be easily explained away due to the injury. She's placed documentation in your file stating metal clips were used."

Liz looked at him in bewilderment as his expression turned sheepish.

"Only Dembe and I are aware, Lizzie, and Dr. Bethany of course. I would never use the device to invade your privacy."

"Yes, you would. And you will."

"Lizzie."

She wasn't sure how she truly felt about this revelation. She wasn't angry, though she knew she probably should be. What she truly felt was relief, tremendous relief. She wasn't aware she was crying until she felt his hand on her arm and saw his chest a few inches in front of her face.

"Shhh. It's okay. We'll have it removed and soon. At the time, I wasn't thinking about your feelings on the matter and there was only so much time to make the decision."

Liz breathed in the smell of him. Rich but subtle, clean with hints of sandalwood. She wanted him to hold her; wanted to feel his body against hers and decided to give in just this one time, hoping he would welcome her. She moved her hands to his waist and pulled him slightly forward. When he took half a step, she wrapped her arms around his lower back and felt his hands gripping her upper arms before pulling her up. Once she stood, he enveloped her. His arms felt strong but held her so gently it made her shiver. She knew what she felt for him in that instant; refusing to deny the emotion any longer. She was falling in love with Raymond Reddington; had been for awhile, had been since she sat across from him in that restaurant in Canada.

She placed her forehead against his chest, wanting to turn her head so she could pull herself flush against him, but knew the stitches in her neck wouldn't allow that movement. She felt comforted immediately and quickly reigned in the tears.

As he began to stroke her hair she closed her eyes and spoke, "No, it's okay. Leave it. I want you to leave it. I don't want anything like this to ever happen again. I just want you to promise... but we can talk about that when I feel like I'm at least operating with half a brain."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz and Red have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left a comment. I apologize for not replying as feedback is gold, but time has been short as of late.

Liz fell asleep within minutes of leaving the hospital. The soft heated leather in Red's Mercedes soothed away the pain and made her eyes heavy the moment she was seated. She vaguely recalled reaching for Red's hand and the gentle grip of his fingers just before she nodded off. Liz didn't wake until an hour and a half later as the motor to the garage door hummed and clanked. She blinked lazily before glancing around noticing the room was larger than her home and held several high-end luxury vehicles.

When Red opened her door, she looked up at him and he grinned. "Good nap?"

Liz cleared her throat before saying, "The pain meds make me sleepy."

When he bent over her body to unbuckle her seatbelt, Liz smelled the delicate wood notes of his aftershave and inhaled. When he struggled for a second to find the release button, she caught herself reaching for him and dropped her hands back to her lap. She felt the blush rise in her cheeks when he met her eyes as he returned to a standing position; she was nearly positive he had observed her movement to touch him.

"Come, turn your legs first. I think that will be easier." He held out his hand and she took hold before turning at the hip and swinging her legs out. He then pulled her out of the car.

She stood still gripping his hand tighter in attempt to prepare herself to walk. "Where are we?"

Red looked down at their joined hands. "A home of a friend of a friend. The housekeeper, Margareat, is a retired Nurse Practitioner and will help you with anything you need. She's also a wonderful cook."

Liz didn't like his wording, and instantly recognized the sudden detachment in his tone. She knew he was leaving and spoke in a rush. "No. I don't need much help now. And anything I do need, you can help me with."

When his face became unreadable, she knew the assumption she had made at the hospital was correct. He was going to take care of whoever was left that had any part in handling Tom and his mission.

"Red, let this go. They don't matter. Not now, anyway."

Red gripped her hand more tightly. "Let's get you inside. I think you'll like the house. It's too large for my taste, but very homey despite that. Your bedroom is especially lovely; the view of the garden from the east window is my personal favorite."

She felt anger stir as he deflected, noticing the change in his eyes which had become hard. She knew he was distancing himself and she spoke in a short tone. "Fine. Then wait until I've healed. I can help you and we can use the task force. This is my trouble, not yours."

He began walking in attempt to get her to move forward, but she stopped after two steps and pulled loose from his grasp.

Red didn't turn, continuing to face away from her, and said, "My first priority is to ensure your safety, Lizzie. To do that, the threat must be eliminated. The trail will soon go cold."

Liz knew the fear that crept into her stomach was irrational, that Red would never leave her in an unsafe situation, but the events at the warehouse didn't leave her thinking logically and the intrusive thought of losing Red was enough to push her over the edge. "Then let it go cold."

When the door in front of them opened, she heard Dembe's voice before his face appeared. "Is everything okay? You were taking longer than I expected to enter the home."

Red spoke in a formal even tone. "Dembe, come see Agent Scott in. Show her to her room and introduce her to Margareat."

Dembe began walking toward Liz and she stepped back until bumping against the sedan. She saw Dembe look at Red who was still facing away from her. As Dembe grew near, he held out his arm, directing her toward the door and said, "Agent, please come with me."

"No."

Dembe stopped and lowered his hand before turning and looking in Red's direction.

A moment later, Red turned and looked at her sternly. "This isn't up for debate. You need to rest. Please, go inside."

She stared back at him, and when she spoke she could hear the desperation in her voice. "You said I would be staying with you. If you're not here... you lied."

His stare became harsh and a smug grinned pulled at his lips. "Criminals are notorious liars. Now go inside. You're growing more pale by the minute."

His words felt like a shove and she looked down at the floor before feeling herself sway. If she hadn't been leaning against the car, she knew she would have hit the stained concrete at her feet. She saw Red start moving toward her, but Dembe reached her first; his hand firmly grasping her upper arm.

When she looked up, she became dizzy and felt her head tilt to the side. As she met Red's eyes, concern outlined his features and she decided to try one last time. "And what happens to me if something happens to you?"

She swayed again, this time forward, and Dembe caught her opposite shoulder preventing her fall. A moment later she felt herself being lifted as her vision became blurred. Red's voice sounded firm. "I've got her. Get the door."

* * *

The moment Red laid her on the large four poster bed, she felt him sit next to her, his hip pressing into her side. When she felt his hand brush back the hair from her face, she opened her eyes and saw an older short woman enter the room. Her hair was cropped close to her head and was as white as snow. The woman's voice was just at stout as her body. "What happened?"

Red's reply was quick. "She fainted. The trip from the hospital was too much for her."

Liz heard who she assumed to be Margareat make a loud tsking sound. "Hospitals these days. They kick everyone out before they're ready. What's her pulse?"

Liz watched Red's face as he reached for her wrist. Once he realized it was bandaged she saw him look at her uninjured hand lying on the opposite side of the bed. He then met her eyes before placing his fingertips at her neck and studying his watch. He was quiet for a long moment before saying, "128."

She expected his touch to disappear but it didn't and she kept her eyes on his face as she felt his hand rest against her collar bone.

Margareat leaned around Red and Liz moved her eyes to the woman. "You're staying in bed the rest of the evening, my dear. What would you like for dinner? I hear you have a fondness for tomato bisque. How about a bowl?"

Liz spoke slowly still feeling a bit woozy. "Not now. Maybe later."

Margareat patted her leg. "I'm Margareat and I know you're Elizabeth. We'll get along just fine. I'll be back to check on you in an hour. You're not to get out of this bed unless I'm here, understand? Not even to go to the restroom."

The older woman picked up a wireless call button from the night stand and held it up so Liz could see the device clearly. "Push this button and I'll magically appear any time of the day or night. Again, I don't want you out of this bed unless I'm here to help. Not until tomorrow afternoon at least. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

Margareat left after returning the button to its resting spot and Liz moved her eyes back to Red. She felt the pads of his fingers moving ever so slightly against her skin and she exhaled slowly as his delicate touch lulled her.

When his eyes went to her throat, and as he continued to stroke her skin, she thought she stood a chance of changing his mind. His eyes were warm and lips curled up ever so slightly; all the coldness that he had shown in the garage was gone.

Liz spoke softly, "You promised me once that you would be there whenever I needed you. I needed you three days ago but I need you now too."

His eyes met hers and when he began to move his hand away she reached up and clutched at his fingers. He stilled before taking hold of her hand and pressing it into the bed close to her hip.

Red then leaned over until his face was directly over hers. "Lizzie, there are some things I won't trust to others. This is one of them. You won't be safe until this issue is resolved. I'm leaving you in the care of a trusted friend. Security will be present twenty-four hours a day. You are perfectly safe."

She began to shake her head but stopped as soon as she remembered the injury and said, "Do you know how difficult this is for me - to tell you that I need you? For me to admit that to myself? Some days you look at me as if I'm the only thing in your world that matters, and then the next time I only see disappoint or irritation. You give me nothing, certainly no answers. And with the exception of Tom, you've not even given me questions."

"You had to learn the truth about Tom before we could move to the next question, Lizzie."

Liz furrowed her brow and adjusted her head slightly on her pillow, bringing her face closer to his before dropping it again. "And I was supposed to do what? Believe you? Because you made some vague reference about my biological father when I asked why you chose me? Would you be so trusting if our roles were reversed?"

When Red didn't immediately reply, she dropped her eyes to the knot in his tie, remembering one of the theories she had developed over the last couple of days. "Is this why I mattered to you, because of Tom and the people he works for? Did this give you a way to find them? Is that why you feel an obligation to care for me now? Because you feel some sense of guilt or responsibility?"

Liz finally saw a change in his expression as his eyes searched her face. His brow crinkled and she watched him bite the inside of his cheek before speaking in a lower tone. "First, you used the past tense when describing your significance in my life. Don't ever do that again. Second, you matter to me more than you will ever be able to understand. Those minutes before I reached the warehouse were the among the longest of my life. I haven't felt that helpless in twenty years, and will not ever feel that way again. That's why this issue must be dealt with, and that's why I'm handling the situation personally."

She lifted her bandaged hand and cupped Red's jaw before sliding her thumb along his smooth skin. Liz wondered briefly how the man never seemed to have even the slightest stubble. When he began to pull away, she moved her hand to the back of his neck and brought him forward. She felt as though she were in a daze, that their conversation wasn't real. She was saying things to him she rarely felt the courage to speak, and he was responding in a way that only made her want to hold him close.

A moment later she resolved herself, knowing there was nothing she could say or do to keep him here with her. "Will you keep in touch? So I know you're okay."

She watched his eyes and could see the shift in his thoughts; he had moved on, was somewhere else. Liz pulled him down, in attempt to regain his focus, and when their lips touched in a chaste kiss she removed her hand from the back of his neck. His eyes intently watched hers as he pulled back slightly.

Liz sighed and said, "In case you didn't already know. I have feelings for you. And I know you will automatically suspect the timing but it doesn't make what I feel any less real. So, if you don't feel the same way, if there's no hope for you being anything more than a friend, you need to tell me now because I can't let myself..."

After his eyes bore into her for several seconds, she became increasingly uncomfortable and felt her throat growing dry. "Please say something."

"Lizzie, you're confused. You've been through a traumatic experience."

"You're right. I'm both of those things. I can't even begin to understand what's going on. I'm in the middle of something I know nothing about. You told me when we met that my entire life is a lie and now I believe you. I have no idea why you care or why you do what you do when it comes to me. I spent nearly every hour I was awake in the hospital trying to come up with an answer... and what does that say about me? That I think of you when I murdered my husband only hours before? I've barely given him a passing thought."

A soft knock on the door frame made Liz startle. Red didn't move however and she trained her eyes back to Red's when Dembe spoke. "It's time to go."

"I'll be there momentarily. Wait downstairs."

Liz closed her eyes in defeat and she listened to the soft footfalls of Dembe's retreat. When she felt Red's breath on her cheek followed by his soft warm lips placing a quick kiss, she placed her hand on his side and said. "One answer, Red. Give me one answer. One that matters."

He pulled away slightly and whispered against her skin. "I will always do whatever I feel I have to do to keep you safe. And I will always be here for you."

Liz tightened her grip on his side and opened her eyes before slightly shaking her head. "I already knew that."

He grinned. "I'll only be gone a short while."

As he began to move back, Liz pushed herself up to a sitting position and gripped his shoulder stopping his retreat. When she moved to kiss him, his eyes remained open but hers slid closed as their lips made contact.

His response was immediate, something she didn't expect, and she found herself caught off guard even though she initiated the kiss. The pressure he applied was firm but gentle and the second she traced his bottom lip with her tongue, he parted his lips. She felt a tremendous need to connect with him on a physical level and pushed her body closer to his.

When he began to pull away, she moved her hand to the back of his head and held him in place. After she opened her mouth further and began to stroke his tongue with her own, she felt a rumble in his chest. His hand slipped under her sweatshirt at her hip and he began to slide his hand across her abdomen, her muscles jumping at his touch. As the kiss continued, she felt his hand travel further up until his fingers brushed the underside of her breast. She was thankful his mouth was still on hers as it helped stifle her moan.

In the next second, she was on her back and she felt the sway in the mattress as he climbed on top of her; his body pressing fully into hers, a welcome weight that had her gripping at his shirt in attempt to pull it loose from his pants. Somehow he managed to never break the kiss, although what had been near frantic seconds before, had slowed to a more controlled intensity. As his lips began to move along her jaw and then down to her neck, she arched causing a sharp pain to tear at the back of her head. He ceased his movement the moment her cry exited her mouth. When his eyes met hers, she watched his as he reeled in his desire, his expression changing to one of concern.

After the pain faded, she spoke, "I'm fine. I just forgot for a second. Several seconds, actually. Don't stop."

"Lizzie."

"No, don't stop. Please don't stop."

His lips turned up in a brief smile before he kissed her softly and pushed away, removing himself from her body to sit next to her at the edge of the bed. "Do you really want an audience of Dembe or Margareat? I think not. I certainly don't."

Liz moved her hand to his thigh. "Then shut the door." When she moved to a sitting position and reached for the hem of her sweatshirt, he grabbed hold of her hands. "No. If we do this now, I will only be taking advantage of you."

"You won't." In one swift motion, she broke her hands free and pulled her shirt over her head.

She saw him swallow and watched his eyes. When they failed to leave her face, she sighed. "Of course, you would be the only man I've ever known not to look."

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "And exactly how many men are you comparing me to?"

She squinted her eyes at him. "You want to go there? Because I'm quite certain the number of women you've been with far surpasses the number of men I can count on one hand."

His smile was genuine and he gave her a quick nod. "A conversation for a later time. Now cover yourself, because if Dembe reappears I'm quite sure you will be able to add to the list of men who have been mesmerized by your beauty."

"Red - "

He interrupted her, and reached for the sweatshirt in her lap before placing it across her chest. "This is not the right time."

Liz let out an exasperated sigh. "Is there ever going to be a time when you allow me to have any control over the interaction we have?"

Red's brow furrowed. "You give me far too much credit, sweetheart."

"You always hold the upper hand."

Red narrowed his eyes. "Although I often find it extremely difficult when it comes to you, I'm a very patient man. You are my second chance, Lizzie. In more ways than one."

Liz dropped her eyes to Red's lips, and pressed the material of her shirt against her skin as she took in his words.

Red then slid his hands to the bare skin of her back, splaying his warm hands across her skin, before leaning in close to whisper in a smooth rich voice that made her tremble. "Know this - I want to look. I want... so many things with you. But most of all, I want a future."

Liz felt the burn of tears as he bent his head to place a lingering open mouthed kiss on the top of her shoulder, his teeth grazing across her skin. When he pulled back he gave her a grin and smoothed her hair with his hands. "I'll see you in a few days. Rest. I'll check in. Everything will be fine."

She gave him a subtle nod as he stood then disappeared out the door. After carefully pulling the sweatshirt over her head, Liz laid back down and curled up on her side. She touched her fingertips to her lips and smiled. For the first time since he walked into her life, she believed everything was going to okay.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red returns.

Red had been gone for six days and in that time her anger at Tom's actions and betrayal had reached a silent fury. She now understood why Red had left, and she wanted the people that Tom had worked for to be held accountable.

Though Red hadn't spoken to Liz directly, he had relayed messages through Margareat at least once each day. Liz was frustrated by this, not understanding why he didn't speak with her, and became even more irritated when she overheard Margareat giving Red an update on her recovery earlier that day. The woman had told Red that Liz was growing stronger along with her mood swings and the nightmares that were beginning to plague her. Rather than confront her caretaker, Liz huffed and slinked down the hall, remaining in her room the rest of the day.

Liz had spent much of the past few days sleeping and was finally feeling as though she had the strength to move again. She had taken a short walk in the garden that afternoon, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. Spring was in the air and all the plants looked as though they were about to burst open. She knew security was about but it wasn't confirmed until Roger appeared with a rifle in hand the moment she stepped outside. She tried her best not to frown at his presence, knowing he was only following Red's orders, but it still annoyed her to have him as an obvious shadow. She then wondered what, or who exactly, Red was eliminating.

After dinner, she sat in her bedroom and watched television trying to ignore the itch of the stitches on her wrist. She drifted off early, well before the 11:00 news had begun and awoke drenched in a cold sweat around 3:00 a.m. She didn't remember the dream that had left her tangled in the covers, and had changed the damp sheets before showering for the first time without Margareat close by. The water felt wonderful and she took her time washing and conditioning her hair before shaving her long neglected legs.

She pulled on a tee shirt and panties before towel drying her hair and making her way to the kitchen for a glass of ice water. The house was dark and quiet, and she somehow managed to traverse the creaking stairs without waking the nearly ever present Margareat. She looked out each window she passed searching for signs of life outside, straining her eyes in attempt to determine who was on security detail that night.

When she reached the kitchen, she removed a glass from the cabinet and pushed the button to turn on the small light in the front of the refrigerator. The sound of the slush of the crushed ice filling her glass was loud in the silent room and she glanced around hoping Margaret wouldn't appear. Liz took a long drink before refilling her glass and sitting it on the granite countertop in order to open the fridge.

Her hand automatically went to her hip when she saw the silhouette standing in the entryway to the kitchen. When she realized she wasn't armed, she began backing up in attempt to put the large kitchen island between herself and the man standing there.

Red's voice was soft. "Lizzie, it's me."

She breathed out in a rush and grabbed at the chair back in front of her before swaying, weak and unsteady from adrenalin and fear. He reached her quickly, taking hold of her upper arms. "I'm so sorry, I was trying my best not to frighten you."

She dropped her forehead against his chest and immediately circled his waist with both arms. He seemed taller than she remembered, his scent stronger, his voice deeper; Raymond Reddington larger than life itself.

His hand stroked through her damp hair and she gripped him more tightly. With the exception of an often pressing anger, she had been numb for days and now felt as though all her emotions were crashing in at once. He held her for what had to be several minutes before placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back gently. "Where are your bandages?"

She looked up into his eyes then raised her hand studying the stitches. "I just took a shower. I couldn't stand trying to get clean being wrapped up like a mummy any longer. Margareat is mean. She binds me in Saran wrap every day. Imagine trying to wash your hair with plastic around your neck. These stitches are itching me like crazy."

Red chuckled and took hold of her hand. "Come, let's get you taken care of."

As they walked past the counter, Liz reached over and picked up the glass of water. When they reached her bedroom, she realized how she was dressed then shrugged her shoulders at herself for caring. Red turned on the light beside her bed as she sat down and turned off the television.

He asked, "Where are the medical supplies?"

"Bathroom - cabinet by the shower, in a big blue plastic container."

He returned a few seconds later with the bandages and Liz noticed his all black attire. She studied his form fitting jeans and then his sock covered feet before her eyes fell to the exposed area of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. He looked tired, worn even, but incredibly handsome. Liz focused on the light brown and gold hair of his chest and wondered if the texture was as soft as she imagined.

When she met his eyes, she knew she was caught because the smug grin on his face left nothing to question. She smiled at him in response, not caring in the least that he knew she found him alluring.

She took a drink of the ice water sitting on her nightstand before asking, "Where've you been?"

When she heard the first syllable of his reply, she said the sentence along with him, "Out and about."

He raised his eyebrows at her and she took hold of his right hand, stopping him from unrolling the gauze in his left. Liz asked, "Did you kill them? Because I really hope you killed them."

His eyes narrowed a bit as they bounced back and forth between hers and she said, "I mean it, Red. I want them dead. And I don't care what that makes me. If I could do it myself, I would."

He sat back continuing to study her and she realized he didn't like her words. She nodded. "You're what? Disappointed in me?"

Red's exhale was long and deep before he spoke. "This isn't you, Lizzie. You've been through a terrible ordeal and your anger is justified but this isn't you."

He broke free of her grasp and reached for her wrist before studying the wound and expertly changing the topic of discussion. "I see the surgeon has made the scar far less noticeable, removed much of the raised tissue."

As he traced his fingers across the stitches, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her lips parted as he spoke, "With a few laser treatments to improve the coloration, it would be almost naked to the eye, unless one was specifically looking."

Liz watched as he placed the antibiotic ointment and bandage on her skin, and then wrapped her hand and wrist with gauze. When he was done, he secured it with tape.

A moment later she saw his eyes rest on her chest not realizing until that second that her nipples were taught, straining against her shirt which was pulled tight from sitting on the material. He shifted on the side of the bed before bringing his eyes to hers. She searched his face hoping to see her desire reciprocated, but his expression was blank.

"Turn around, Lizzie. Let me look at your neck."

She didn't move, instead locking her eyes on his then dropping them to his mouth. The pull she felt toward him was heady. Her breathing changed and she cared nothing about hiding what she was feeling.

He spoke in a stern voice, "Turn around."

She smiled at him in a challenge and he tilted his chin up in response. She looked at his lips again before climbing to her knees, her body less than a foot from his face with her chest in clear view, before spinning around and sitting.

Liz looked at the painting above the bed and waited for him to touch her, wondering if he would excuse himself and have Margareat tend to the rest of her injuries. She couldn't see Raymond Reddington running though, especially from something as simple as a provocative manuever on her part. Red always wanted to maintain the upper hand and for the moment, she thought herself in the lead.

Seconds later, he moved her hair to one side and she listened to his sharp intake of breath. She was sure he had been told how badly Tom had hurt her but seeing the injury himself had obviously caught him off guard.

She had seen the laceration for the first time two days earlier as Margareat held her hair and Liz maneuvered a small mirror to look at her reflection. The stitching actually didn't bother her all that much. She usually wore her hair down anyway. Margareat had explained how well she was healing and that the scarring would be minimal in a year or two. She considered it a badge of honor in a way - as something to be proud of, she had survived after all.

When his fingers moved through her hair, making and then pushing up the makeshift bun, his fingers slid along her scalp, and she closed her eyes before letting out a subtle moan. He had no way of knowing but he was touching one of her most sensitive areas. She suddenly felt hot, beads of sweat coating her upper lip, and she wanted him to touch her everywhere.

Without instruction, she tilted her chin down so he would have easier access to dress the wound, she wanted him to hurry so they could move along to something else. When she felt the tips of his fingers sliding below the stitching, she bit her lip to prevent another moan from escaping. He applied the ointment and a self-adhesive bandage before smoothing her hair over her back.

Liz turned to face him, again searching his face, hoping to see reciprocation of her feelings. With the exception of slightly darker eyes, she saw no change in his expression but she wasn't giving up yet. She licked her bottom lip and his eyes dropped watching the slow slide of her tongue and she caught the slight bobble in his throat.

She reached for her water again, took a sip and then handed to him. "I think you just might be as thirsty as I am, Red. Why don't you go ahead?"

He looked at her intently before taking the glass from her and setting it back down on the coaster on the nightstand. His stern voice from earlier returned, "Get some rest."

As he moved to stand, she grabbed his hand. "How could you forget? There's one more."

Liz laid down on the bed and pulled up her tee raising the shirt to just below her breasts. Her panties were nothing special but she thought them pretty enough - small, dark blue cotton hipsters. She bent her right knee slightly and angled her body toward him. She had no idea what she was doing, but for some reason she wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed and was actually enjoying how uncomfortable she appeared to me making him. She briefly wondered if her behavior had something to do with the Tylenol 3 but she hadn't taken a pill since after her walk the day before.

Red was doing his best to hide his reaction but she saw the pulse beating fast in his neck. He met her eyes. "You have to attend at least three mandated therapy sessions before returning to work. Have you scheduled the first?"

She narrowed her eyes at him before speaking. "You think what? My reaction to you is because of the traumatic event I've suffered? Why can't this be as simple as me wanting you? Are you trying to pretend you're not attracted to me? Because of all the things you're good at hiding, that's not one of them."

Liz reached for his hand and placed it just across her naval then said, "You take care of me in every other way. Why not this?"

He looked away. For the first time she could remember, Red looked away from her.

After a number of seconds, he set his jaw and reached into the box with his free hand and selected another bandage. Liz removed her hand from on top of his and watched as he applied the salve and small rectangle to her skin. She watched his eyes closely, looking for any indication of what he was thinking. If this had been any other day, if she hadn't suffered the attack a few days earlier; she wasn't sure she would be able to handle his near perfect act of indifference, but it was amazing what almost dying had done to her attitude.

As he reached for her shirt, she held her breath but when he took hold of the hem and pulled it down covering her, she sighed and closed her eyes. When she felt the bed shift and Red gathering the bandages, tears burned her eyes, and she rolled to her side facing away from the light. She listened as he entered the bathroom then re-emerged.

Liz considered apologizing but wasn't truly sorry so she decided to leave the words unsaid. She knew there would be an elephant in the room now, whenever they were together.

A few moments later, she felt him standing at the edge of the bed and heard the click of the light switch as the room went dark. When he climbed in behind her, pulling the covers up over both of them, she became very still.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion while in the same bed. Also fills a prompt regarding one of Red's vices.

Liz attempted to turn to face him, but his hand splayed across her abdomen ceasing her movement before pulling her close against his chest, his head raising to just above her ear. "Rest Lizzie. If you feel the same way three months from now, I won't question your motivation, but right now I'm having a difficult time understanding where you're coming from, and you mean entirely too much to me to jeopardize our relationship. He kissed her shirt clad shoulder before nuzzling her hair which made her hum his name.

"And yes, they're dead. All five of them. Now we move on to the next organization, and then the next, and so on."

Liz considered his words wanting to ask about the five people but his body, warm against her own, was too inviting. She thought for a second, developing a plan then said, "Red, let me turn. I'm resting on the stitches."

He released his grip on her waist and she twisted slowly until she faced him. She hooked her leg over his hip then gripped his shoulder moving closer to him, their heads sharing the same pillow, their faces inches apart.

She felt him pull back slightly before he said, "I fear I've been manipulated."

Liz smiled in the dark, moving her hand from his shoulder to the open collar of his shirt. She brushed her fingers over his throat before moving them lower through the wavy hair.

Red's voice dropped in what she assumed was meant to be a deterrent, but the rich tone had the completely opposite effect on her already hyperactive libido. "Lizzie."

She asked softly, "What?"

The timber of his voice remain unchanged, "Don't make me regret lying down with you."

Liz asked in what she hoped was an innocent voice, "Do you remember when you took me to that jazz club on 11th?"

"Bohemian Caverns?"

Liz moved her hand from his chest to his shoulder and slid her hand down his arm until she found his wrist, moving his hand to her waist. "Um, I think so. The place with the in-house big band." She felt him tense for a second but when she quickly removed her hand from his, moving her own back to his upper chest, he relaxed and his hand moved to the natural dip at her side - between her hip bone and the bottom of her rib cage.

He spoke, "Yes, one and the same."

She moved her inside free arm between them grasping his belt buckle.

"Last warning, sweetheart."

Liz huffed. "I'm trying to get comfortable. Would you rather I put my hand somewhere else?"

The puff of air he blew out through his mouth moved across her face and she smelled a hint of mint.

"Red, back to your question."

She paused and before she had time to continue, he asked, "What question?"

"Why I brought up that club."

He sounded a bit exasperated. "Go on."

"That's the place that sold the cigars, right? The place where you ordered a Tortuga something?"

Liz slipped two fingers into the opening of his shirt and pulled her leg a little tighter against his hip. His hand tightened on her waist and she grinned.

"Yes, a Tortuga Reserva made my Victor Vitale."

She hummed in response then said, "That's what I thought."

If there had been enough light, she was certain she would see the furrow of his brow. "What's this about, Lizzie?"

Liz gently lifted her head moving closer, quite certain she had him distracted enough to be able to unfasten at least one button of his shirt without being noticed. Just before her fingers flicked the button open she spoke, "You're a smart man, brilliant in fact. Your actions are planned as well as your physical movements, not just your words."

She moved her hand lower and spoke again as her fingers focused on the second button, "You know exactly what you look like when you smoke a cigar. You know perfectly well how sensual an image you portray."

Their breaths intermingled and Liz swallowed hard, thankful the gulp was soundless. She couldn't recall being more aroused and licked her lips in anticipation.

When Red remained silent, she moved her hand through the opening of his shirt, sliding her fingers through his chest hair until the tip of her forefinger found a nipple. "That was weeks ago, Red. And I wanted you then. I noticed that flick of your tongue as you turned away from me, to keep the smoke out of my face."

She circled his nipple, and moved the fingers of her other hand around his shirt tail, between his underwear and the flesh of his lower abdomen. His skin was warm and slightly bristled with hair. "Do you want to know what I did that night?"

Liz paused, waiting for his response. She counted to seventeen before he spoke, his voice dropping again into that deep rich tone, "An explanation or demonstration?"

She closed her eyes, her heart pounding against her chest, before removing her hand from his shirt to cover his hand now tightly gripping her side. "I would prefer to have assistance but I'm agreeable to those options."

Their noses brushed and Liz removed her second hand from his stomach bringing her arm up and placing the side of her finger across the slight part of his lips. They were dry but soft and she could feel the warm moisture of his breath pushing out through his mouth.

Her voice cracked when she spoke next and she cursed herself for faltering. "Will you help me?"

Liz lowered her finger to his chin and waited yet again.

He began to speak as he moved his hand to interlock their fingers, "Passive participation or something more - "

She interrupted him, "Tactile." Liz paused then said, "I want you to touch me. Please."

Liz felt the tug of his skin as he grinned and she knew she had him. "My hands are at your disposal."

Without delay, she sat up and removed her shirt, tossing it across the room before reaching for her underwear to push them down and slide them off. Once undressed, she laid back on her side and resumed her previous position. She waited for him to move, to touch her but he remained still.

"Red?"

She felt the long exhale of his breath against her face before his hand found her stomach and his fingertips moved across her abdomen avoiding the bandage below her naval.

Liz licked her lips wanting to kiss him so very badly but diverted that need into speaking. "I was alone that night and I was happy to be alone. No interference, no diversions. Just images of you in the charcoal suit you had worn that day, the crisp white shirt, the gray tie with silver thread."

She reached for his hand as his fingers pressed into the muscles of her stomach, grabbing hold and moving his hand to her breast. "The maple cufflinks at your wrists. I love those by the way, those cufflinks." She closed her eyes as he pressed his palm into her nipple, and she mumbled, "You... Red."

Her back arched pressing herself further into his hand and she lost the ability to speak. When he moved closer to her she was surprised, and when he rose to his elbow and pushed her back into the mattress before kissing her neck, her moan filled the room. She hadn't expected him to kiss her and she most certainly didn't anticipate how his mouth would make her feel despite the intense feelings she remembered from their first kiss only days earlier.

She grabbed his wrist, moving his hand down to cup her before placing her hand over his and pressing down firmly. His fingers curled pressing into her center and she mumbled a sound that was somewhere between his name and something much more raw.

Liz moved her hips in attempt to cause more friction, and he shifted his torso in what she quickly learned was a move to free his other arm. He switched hands, thereby pushing hers away and she immediately reached for him, finding him hard, thick, and long through his pants.

His hips bucked and he grasped her hand tightly removing it quickly. His voice was gruff and short. "No."

She whimpered, "I want to touch you."

"If you touch me, I will not be able to maintain control. And given your current condition, I could very easily hurt you."

Liz felt the sweat break out across her lower back at the thought of Red not holding anything back. She thought it was probably best to find his confession alarming but she became swept up in the eroticism of the fantasy and said, "I want you to lose control. With me."

She immediately knew her words were a mistake when his body tensed and he didn't reply. He shifted and moved to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

Liz closed her eyes and spoke softly, "You would never hurt me."

She made out the slight shake of his head before the rumble of his words hit her square in the chest. "Ah, sweetheart, I could so very easily harm you. And you need to understand that there's a part of me that wants to take you to that place. Keeping that part of myself in check is sometimes a struggle."

Liz was confused, not understanding if he was referring to a sexual desire or something else altogether. She asked, "What does that mean?"

He turned his head, not quite looking over his shoulder at her before saying, "You know what I am, Lizzie. You know many of the terrible acts I've committed but you don't know why. And the why is what makes me a danger to you."

She moved, sitting up, before placing her hand on his shoulder. "This has something to do with my father, doesn't it?"

He turned toward her and took her hand, kissing her palm multiple times before leaning in and kissing her just in front of her earlobe. She felt him breath her in before he said, "What you do to me. What you do to me without having the slightest idea."

She felt the brim of tears and her words came in a rush, her voice breaking on several words, "When are you going to tell me? How long do I have to wait?"

He sat back and she felt his thumb beginning to massage her unscarred palm as he spoke, "You need all the pieces and I'm working to find them, along with you. Until then, it's best we - "

Her voice rose cutting him off. "You're pushing me away. I've gotten too close tonight and you're pushing me away." She took a deep breath and said, "You want me to believe that you would hurt me? Well, I don't."

She felt his weight shift on the bed in preparation to stand and she grabbed his forearm before whispering, "You want to make love to me. I want to make love with you."

Red's thumb stopped it's movement and she felt his posture stiffen before saying, "You're afraid. But you need to know this, I'm not. Not any longer."

She felt the muscle flex in his arm and continued, "You've lost someone, or maybe you've lost everyone. And then there's me and you feel conflicted because I make you feel something you haven't allowed yourself to believe in for a very long time." She scooted closer to him, her thigh touching his hip. "You're worried that if you let me in and something happens - if I don't survive... you won't be able to finish... your plan."

When he firmly grasped the sides of her face, she felt trepidation for the first time. "Lizzie, the loss of your life is not an option. That will not happen - even if I have to walk away to prevent that from occurring."

A moment later he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead, mumbling against her skin, "I'm sorry. I have few moments of weakness but you... Get some rest." He then walked to the door and paused for a moment before opening and closing it softly behind him.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red insists they take a step back.

When she descended the stairs after sleeping hard for several hours, she heard Red and Dembe in the library off the main hall. She set her shoulders and entered the room finding both men playing cards.

Red met her with a bright grin and said, "Good morning, Lizzie, or I should say early afternoon."

She walked around the large coffee table and leaned over Red, placing a hand on his knee before kissing his cheek and sitting on the empty couch cushion next to Dembe before asking, "Did I miss lunch?"

Her question was met with a number of seconds of silence and she looked at Red as he intently watched her. She didn't know how Red had expected her to act but she had no plans to pretend as if their relationship wasn't changing, and the need to be near him - to touch him - was too strong to ignore.

As he moved to sit back in his chair, his eyes averted to Dembe, "Please give us a moment and check on lunch. I'm sure Agent Scott is famished."

Liz turned her head and watched Dembe leave before returning her attention to Red. She didn't try to hide the irritation from her voice, "Agent Scott? Really? Why the formality? Because of what I did last night?"

As the tears welled in her eyes, the expression on his face changed. "Lizzie."

"Back to Lizzie, now."

His green eyes bore into hers as he spoke, "We need to take a step back."

She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye, "You mean, you've decided we need to take a step back so that's what will happen because I never have a say."

He winced and his expression appeared pained for a brief moment. "I've scheduled your first counseling appointment for later today. Her name is Alexa Simmons. Cooper highly recommended her."

Liz sighed as more tears slid down her face before dropping her gaze to the cards lying on the table in front of her. She was so very tired of being kept in the dark and of being controlled by the people around her. Taking a step back was not something she wanted or needed. The only time she felt at ease was when he was with her and now he was pushing her away.

She was also well aware of the required therapy sessions and had planned to contact her insurance provider for a list of provides later that day. Her anger piqued at the thought of Red discussing the matter with Cooper, choosing the counselor, and scheduling the appointment without her consent.

After a minute of silence she asked, "I know we're at least an hour outside the city. I assume this Simmons is in D.C.?"

Red watched her for a moment before answering, and she thought he must have expected her to ask about his mandate on their relationship rather than the therapy. "Yes, she's in D.C. The appointment isn't till 4:00."

"I have a doctor appointment tomorrow and should be cleared to drive then. Will you be taking me to see the counselor or will it be Margareat?"

"Margareat has duties here so I will be accompanying you. I thought we might go to din- "

Liz angrily cut him off, "I'll go and pack. There's no reason for me to continue staying here. I'll take a cab to my appointment tomorrow."

As she stood and began to walk away, he called after her, "Lizzie, wait."

She turned on him, her voice a near shout, "No. You decided we need to take a step back. You've eliminated the people Tom worked for so there's no immediate threat. I don't need Margareat to care for me any longer, and you don't... I'll be fine."

Liz remained silent during the trip into the city; the only conversation occurring between Red and Dembe, and during the three short phone calls Red made. She hadn't felt well most of the afternoon and kept fighting the pull of sleep while sitting on the soft leather seat, warmed by the gentle rays of the sun coming through the tinted windows of the sedan.

When they pulled up outside the building holding the counselor's office, Liz looked at Red for the first time since they left the mansion and asked, "I haven't been able to replace my cell, may I borrow your phone?"

Red held out his hand and Liz tried to ignore the feel of his skin against her own as her fingers brushed his hand.

She dialed the number by heart and Aram answered on the third ring. "Mojtabai."

"Aram, it's me."

"Liz?!" The computer tech's exuberance made her lips turn up.

"Yeah," she paused then asked, "At the hospital, you said I could call?"

Aram noticeably adjusted the volume of his voice to a lower level, "Absolutely. Is everything okay?"

Liz could feel Red's eyes on her and when she glanced up, Dembe was watching her in the rearview mirror. "Um, yes. Are you working on a case or will you be leaving work soon?"

"It's been pretty slow - we're mostly waiting on Reddington to give us something. I'll be leaving at 5:00."

She turned her head, purposefully causing her hair to fall in front of her face in attempt to avoid Red's gaze. "I won't be cleared to drive until tomorrow, would you mind giving me a ride this afternoon?"

"Ah, sure. It would be great to see you."

After relaying the address to Aram, Liz turned back to Red and pressed the cell into his palm before looking back to her door. "Thank you again - for everything. I've got it covered from here."

As she pulled the door handle, she felt Red's hand grasp and squeeze her thigh, "Lizzie - "

She ignored him and spoke to the man in the front seat, "Dembe, if you'll please pop the trunk, I'll get my bag."

Liz exited the car and circled to the rear of the vehicle. After Red climbed out after her, she heard the trunk release, and as she reached for the handle of her bag Red's hand closed over her own. She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, feeling a little unsteady on her feet.

His voice was brisk, the irritation he felt evident, "Allow me. You're not to lift anything this heavy."

She removed her hand and stepped back then up over the curb onto the sidewalk. Liz then took the few steps required to lean her shoulder against the large marble column at the entrance to the building. She closed her eyes again wondering if she would be able to complete the trek through the large lobby to the elevators. Her feeling of ill ease had grown once she stood and she was growing more weak by the minute.

A moment later, Red reached her and spoke in a hush, "Really Lizzie, your behavior at times."

She opened her eyes, studying a large crack in the sidewalk, hoping the sway she felt would end before Red realized she was having difficulty. She looked up at him, attempting to focus on his face and knew he immediately saw through her facade when he dropped the handle to her luggage and cupped her elbow asking, "What's wrong?"

She closed her eyes again and leaned further against the column. "I'm okay. It's the concussion. The doctor said it might be like this for awhile. It'll pass. I just need a few more seconds."

When she opened her eyes and the tilt increased, she turned her body to rest her back against the hard surface in an attempt to steady herself. Red moved closer, taking hold of both of her arms and she breathed out in short puffs before feeling to weak to stand on her own and moved her weight to him, hooking her chin on his shoulder. As he circled her waist with one arm, she felt the stroke of what she assumed to be his thumb against her arm.

After a number of seconds Red spoke, "Let's go back to the car."

Liz pushed back from him. "No. I'm okay now."

After standing for a moment without assistance, she looked down at the outstretched handle of her suitcase and reached for it, obviously missing the black plastic grip in the first attempt, but quickly adjusting to take hold before rolling the luggage closer to her body.

HIs tone was laced with concern, "Lizzie."

She met his eyes and spoke with purpose. "I'm fine. I need to get these sessions over with so I can return to work as soon as Dr. Bethany releases me for the neck injury. Have a good evening."

Red's brow furrowed and he returned his hand to her elbow. "Where do you plan on staying?"

Liz returned her gaze to the large crack in the sidewalk before answering, "I'll have Aram take me home."

"Lizzie, look at me." Liz looked back up and he began speaking as soon as their eyes met, "The brownstone has been placed on the market. Your furniture was sold and your things remain in storage. This was all done per your instruction."

Liz averted her eyes watching as several people crossed the road at the intersection just down the street His words didn't register and she pressed the first three fingers of one hand hard into her temple before finally comprehending what he was telling her. After a few more seconds, she replied, "I had forgotten... I spoke to Margareat about that a few days ago. I remember now."

She suddenly thought of the time and turned to glance through the building's glass front at the large clock on the wall she had noticed earlier. As she studied the large object, she scrunched her forehead in confusion. She couldn't read the time, though the small and large hands were visible to her. Without thought of consequence she asked, "What time is it?"

She turned back to Red as he glanced over her shoulder in the direction she had been looking. He tilted his head, the brim of his fedora shading his eyes, "You tell me. You were just looking at the clock in the lobby."

Liz looked down, suddenly fearful of her confusion, but attempted to cover. "I can't read the clock from here. Am I late?"

Red touched her face, his hand forcing her chin up. "Lizzie, is your vision blurry?"

She shook her head as his green eyes bore into hers. "No, I just can't see that far."

When he pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and exposed the watch on his wrist, she looked away and said, "I'll be going now."

His hand circled her arm tightly. "Not until you tell me the time."

"Red, I don't have time for this. I need to get to my appointment."

His grip tightened, his voice quiet but commanding, "Tell me the time."

Liz looked down at his watch again, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. After a number of seconds she whispered, "I can't. I... I understand the concept. I know there are twelve numbers but it doesn't make sense."

Red took half a step closer and she pulled away, maneuvering her body out of his personal space and placing her suitcase between them, before meeting his eyes. "I'll mention it to the doctor tomorrow. She said I might have some problems like this but that it was nothing to be concerned with. I've had issues remembering some words as well but that's getting better."

She watched him study her in response and then finally asked, "Will you please tell me the time?"

Red looked at his watch again and said, "3:47."

She nodded then turned and walked slowly to the accessible door next to the automated circular entry before making her way slowly and carefully to the elevators. She fought the urge to look back at Red knowing he was watching her.

* * *

  _To be continued..._

**Author's Note:**

> * Lizzington Blog: RedandLizzie.tumblr.com  
> * Lizzington Fanfic Rec Blog: RedXLizzie.tumblr.com  
> 


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